


the moon calls out your name (i tell her about you every night)

by blueetooth



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, F/F, Light Angst, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25128298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueetooth/pseuds/blueetooth
Summary: Josie shuts her eyes tightly, holding back the urge to stomp her foot like a child. It’s definitely not a good idea to leave their camp without Alaric's permission, especially when the night already takes over and darkness is everywhere, their only source of light is the flickering fire dad kindled a while ago before wandering somewhere with his bottle of wine. Speaking of which, it's so irresponsible of him to leave his daughters in god-knows-where, defenceless and undirected—“Come on, grandma,” She hates being called that, it makes her feel old and cranky. She’s not old and cranky. “Are you with me or do I have to dack your nipple-high pants again to get you chased after me?”
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 25
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, I think there’s a path here. He’s probably gone this way."

Josie shuts her eyes tightly, holding back the urge to stomp her foot like a child. It’s definitely _not_ a good idea to leave their camp without Alaric's permission, especially when the night already takes over and darkness is everywhere, their only source of light is the flickering fire dad kindled a while ago before wandering somewhere with his bottle of wine. Speaking of which, it's so irresponsible of him to leave his daughters in god-knows-where, defenseless and undirected— 

“Come on, grandma,” She _hates_ being called that, it makes her feel old and cranky. She’s _not_ old and cranky. “Are you with me or do I have to dack your nipple-high pants again to get you chased after me?”

“You’re so mean.” She winces aloud, throwing her hands up in surrender. “I’m your sister. Respect your elder.”

“I thought you hate being called old.” Her sister snickers, and Josie flinches at the word. “You were born like a minute older than me, stop acting like you’re my mom.” 

This time she doesn’t resist stomping her foot. Lizzie jumps ten meters up in the air at the sudden noise, turns around to look at her furiously. 

“You teased me first.” She shrugs as they advance towards the forest. It’s dark enough that her eyes have to take a while to get used to but not as she initially thought, since Josie could still make out the way her sister’s lips curl into an unpleased frown. “It’s only fair to give you a taste of your own medicine.” 

Pale moonlight illuminates the beaten track they walk on, stifling silence stretches a mile long between them when Lizzie decides to give her a silence treatment. The brunette furrows her brows at how immature her sister can sometimes be. She doesn’t get why the blonde has to make it into such a big deal; it’s not like she steals her boyfriend. 

Just as Josie opens her mouth to say something along the line _hey, I’m sorry_ , because she has always had a soft spot for Lizzie and cannot stand being mad by her for more than five minutes, a tiny cracking sound of a twig has both of their heads whipped around frantically. 

“Did you hear that?” There is panic in her voice, Josie thinks of pulling her sister’s hand and sprints. Something is coming. Something dangerous. “I don’t think I stepped on anything.” 

“No, you didn’t.” She tries to keep her voice still in order not to startle her, but Lizzie is already breathing hard, and she feels the need to cover her mouth with her palm creeping up her spine. The brunette can tell it’s not them that break anything, the small road they’re on shows no sight of a twig or wooden object. “I need you to stay calm, come on, in and out.” 

The blonde follows her instruction once, twice, before giving up altogether. “I can’t do it, Jo. I can’t do it.”

Her voice sounds so frightened; it reminds her of when they’re little, Lizzie used to tell her all about the creature underneath her bed and snuggle up to her and cry herself to sleep. Except this time, she’s aware of exactly what freaks her sister out. Josie swallows the lump that threatens to leave her mouth, carefully puts her hand on the small of her back, rubbing comforting circles the way she knows she likes. “It’s okay; I’m here. Can I walk you back?”

There’s another snap of a twig; a low, guttural snarl ringing out confirms all of her suspicions. Out of her peripheral vision, she sees a looming figure towering next to a tree several meters away, watching them intently. Its face half irradiated by the moon, distorted with triple rows of teeth and man-like ears; its porcupine quills tail wagging enthusiastically, like a dog excited to play with his chew toy. Her breath stops short the moment Lizzie yelps and scrambles away, drawing attention to herself. The thing pounces on her, knocking her to the ground almost instantaneously.

Her instinct screams at her to run away, to hide somewhere safe, to not stay. She knows sticking around means putting herself at risk, but her sister's screaming and struggling and Josie can't bring herself to look away. Dread coils tightly inside her chest; tears blur her vision because she could hardly think of any other way to take the beast's attention off Lizzie. She stoops down, blindly searching for a piece of stone that will make it take notice of her presence. 

“Hey.” She tightens around the rock until her knuckles go white, then she hurls it the best her body could manage. “Get the _hell_ off my baby sister."

Her plan works. The behemoth tears it eyes away from the blonde and looks right back at her, baring large, vicious teeth. This is great; everything goes accordingly to what she expects, the only problem is Josie didn't have time to scheme the next step.

So when it lunges for her, she turns her back and _runs_.

* * *

Her lungs are burning, she can't keep it on much longer. The monster is still hot on her heels; she doesn’t dare to look back, the appalling growl echoes in her ears, trapping her like she’s a bird in the cage. 

_I’m so tired._ Her eyes flutter close. A convulsive shudder runs past her and she feels enticed to give up. _It’s getting so close. I’m not going to make it._

Her legs are too weak to carry her. She could feel its saliva bespatter over her bare neck, slackening her pace with its invisible hands wrapping around her.

 _At least Lizzie's safe._ The voice in the back of her head tells her, soothes her. _She'll be safe and only that matters._

The precipitous rush of adrenaline keeps her eyes open momentarily, she grits her teeth and charges headfirst through the bushes. Spikes and prickles pierce her skin, and she no longer could discern between the blood and sweat dripping down her spin. Stripped off of her power, she is nothing but a fragile human—an easy target. The realisation hits hard and turns the sight in front of her foreign. She stumbles forward miserably into the ground, eyes shutting and she waits with bated breath as the grotesque figure of a monster towering over her, the only thought in her head is I’m gone, gone, gone. 

A haze of white fur shoots across the air, sending the frame hovering above her tumbled away. Before Josie could make out the familiar shade of blue flashes through, she passes out.

* * *

Josie wakes up to the humming of the earth; there is soil is inside her mouth and her nose; wet grass pressed to her skin intimately and she breathes to feel the unbearable pain everywhere. Something is moving in her blurry line of vision, so she blinks forcefully to clear off the ache and turns her head to inspect.

The monster lies immobile. Its limbs torn off the body, throat ripped apart exposing the windpipe, blood hemorrhaging from the ruptured sites; whatever’s done that didn’t seem to care one bit about making a mess. She snaps her head in the opposite direction, feeling sick to her stomach at the stench. She could hear her heart palpitating, thudding, screaming. 

_You need to stand up._ The voice from earlier says. Orders. _You are not safe here. Get. Up._

She slides her palm along the ground, pushing herself up. She blames the grasp fear has over her when her unsteady legs fail her and she falls to the ground, kneeling hard at the solid base. 

“Fuck.” She curses out, longing to run away from the place as soon as possible. 

“Josie.” Her name is articulated with care and precision. “It’s me."

It’s not Lizzie. She panics the moment she realises it’s not Lizzie and it’s not Alaric either. The voice sounds alien yet intimate in a way she cannot describe. A shiver runs through her like electricity, ceasing quickly but leaving tingling sensation behind. 

“Who is that?” She calls out; her tongue feels almost too heavy to speak. “P-Please show yourself.” 

_Great. Be polite._

“It’s me.” The owner of the voice recites, stepping out of darkness where the glow of the moon couldn’t reach. “Hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter should be longer.  
> come rant with me on twitter. it's @itsblueetooth.


	2. Chapter 2

Josie insists on them looking for Lizzie first. Apparently, she’s _not_ injured, and her sister’s existence is more crucial than hers.

Honestly, it annoys Hope a little. 

Running away, playing bait like that, was she out of her mind? What was she thinking? What if she wasn’t here to save her? Anything could have happened. The thought sends dread coiling in her stomach, and she grits her teeth to swallow down the roaring anger bubbling in her throat like acid.

“It was supposed to be a night out,” Josie mumbles out of the blue, her eyelashes flutter close. Hope thinks she’s doing that on purpose because she senses a hint of sadness when the brunette exhales. “We were supposed to stick together. But dad trotted away with his bottle, and we had to go find him.”

“ _What?_ ” Hope cries out; guilt instantly eats her up inside for almost making the younger girl jump out of her bone. “That’s so irresponsible. What if I _didn’t_ find you?” 

Now Josie is scowling at her as if she’s the one who left them by themselves.

“What are you? My babysitter? It’s the _back of our school_ , Hope.” 

_Wow, okay, no need to get defensive._

Hope blinks, her pace slows down deliberately as she frowns at the sudden outburst. The brunette must have noticed her disappointment; she pads closer to put a hand on her left shoulder and releases a tired sigh. 

“I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to help. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” She sounds bone-tired. The timbre of her voice shakes Hope to her core, and panic starts to build up rapidly in her chest. “It feels like my life is crumbling, you know? Dad doesn’t give a damn about us, Lizzie keeps having this nightmare and the monsters are cutting loose.”

Josie looks so small and wounded. Her shoulders sag under the heavy rain, her hair sticks miserably to her face, and her legs shake with every step as if walking takes a hell of an effort. 

“Are you alright?” Hope fights the urge to put her hand on Josie’s waist and pull their bodies flushed together. “I’m sorry, it’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay, there’s monster chased after you moment ago and Lizzie is nowhere—”

“No, no.” She waves her hands dismissively, a tight-lipped smile on her lips. “I’m fine. I just need to, uh, lean on you a bit.”

Josie makes a show of rubbing her temples, to which Hope interprets wearily, so she loops one of her arms through her waist and pulls her to her side.

“Here. I’ll lead the way; you can rest your eyes.”

She gives her an appreciative nod and lays her head on Hope’s shoulder. The tips of her ears pink immediately, somehow, she always seems to lose her cool around the younger girl. She has known Josie for such a long time—well, not exactly _know_ but they always cross paths at school and Hope spend two-thirds of her time at class staring at Josie from behind (which, by the way, is not creepy)—but they’ve never been this close. Not until now.

She gulps thickly, swallowing down the knot tying at her throat. Her chest swells with a mix of pure affection and apprehension; Hope doesn’t think she’ll ever want to let the younger girl go again.

“Hope?” Josie nudges her gently with her elbow; she doesn’t lift her head from her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you here?”

“I came here for a run.” Hope weighs her words carefully, shifting her stance to pull the other girl closer to her side. Her body frail pressing against hers; she’s afraid that if she doesn’t hold her tight Josie might vanish into thin air. “When I wolfed out, I could smell someone’s distress—yours—so I went looking.”

Bitterness coats her mouth entirely as the memory, still vivid and fresh in her mind, returns in full force. She feels so sick, her cries for help reverberates in her ear that she desperately wants to bend over and cough out the nausea inside her throat.

“I tried to ignore it, turn a blind eye at first.” If Josie catches the tremble in her tone, she doesn’t comment on it. “But it was so—I was so…”

No matter how hard she tries, she couldn’t say the word. Her nails dig into her free palm ruthlessly, crescent moons and blood drawn underneath her fingertips.

“It’s okay. I get it.” Josie murmurs, brushing her wrist tentatively and reaching for her palm. Her fingers slowly disentangle Hope’s stiff ones and interlace them together. “If it weren’t for your wolf instincts, dad and Lizzie would be planning my funeral now. Really, you’ve saved everyone from the trouble.”

The brunette tries to lighten up the mood with a joke. Hope’s frown grows deeper, annoyance etched on her face, and she jerks out of her touch.

This isn’t funny; _death_ isn’t something to make fun of.

She doesn’t know what to say in return, so she stays silent, hoping Josie could pick up the cue and change the subject.

“Sorry, that was insensitive.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.” She sighs, covers her hand across her face to hide her emotions. Josie looks like she wants to say something, because she purses her lips the way she’s in deep thought and hides her eyes under long, thick lashes.

The moment is almost normal, heavy, but fine nonetheless. It takes Hope by surprise and a while to react when a perfectly upright Josie collapses like a house of cards, precarious and abrupt, into her arms.

“Jo?” She calls out hastily. “You there?”

Quiet.

“Fuck.”

* * *

Josie wakes up with a pounding head, the situation isn’t much different from yesterday, except for the fact that she’s resting in a bed that she knows isn’t hers or Lizzie’s. She skims her hand across the duvet, trying to find a particular spot to push herself up.

“Hey, easy.” She turns her head to the direction of the comment. Hope leans on the doorframe, staring fixedly at her with wide, blue eyes; her hands gripping a tray with what she presumes is a side of chopped green salad—her favourite—and a glass of orange juice. “Don’t move too much, your injury is sorta serious.”

“Are you okay?” Not trusting her voice, she nods her head, making sure that it’s enough for Hope to understand, without causing too much agony to her already throbbing skull. The other girl hums in acknowledgement, moving from her previous position to her bedside in a matter of second, to which Josie guesses it’s her super speed.

Hope carefully puts the tray onto the drawer on her right side, hands reaching out to place on her shoulders. Josie tries not to flinch at the jolt of electricity sending straight down her spine, heat flushes from her ears, painting her cheeks in rosy pink.

“I already checked in with Dr Saltzman,” a flash of resentment crosses through her eyes that has Josie wondered. “You don’t need to get to class today, or tomorrow, if you will.”

“What time is it? Did you see Lizzie?” She implores, throat scrapes raw and hoarse. God, she sounds so much worse than she expected, what will Hope think?

_Disgusting? Revolting?_ Probably not, she’s too polite.

_Unappealing? Indecent?_ It’s a possibility. She’s still wearing yesterday clothes, and she hasn’t brushed her teeth yet, her hair dishevelled and she looks like a mess.

Oh no, she couldn’t seriously be brooding over this. Yes, Hope saves her life once, so what? Is she supposed to have a crush on her now? Hundreds of questions swarming in her head, leaving her feeling overwhelmed at the slightest hint of worry in the older girl’s voice.

“Jo, are you listening to me?” Hope tilts her head to the side, in an attempt to get her attention, and Josie finds it _fucking adorable._ “Yes, I saw her. She’s in your room. Do you want to eat? The food is getting cold.”

Though the brunette isn’t exactly sure how salad and orange juice could go _cold_ , she doesn’t question. That’d be insensitive, considering the tribrid cares enough to bring her breakfast in bed. Hmm, breakfast in bed? The idea seems so romantic that Josie almost squeals, her heart fills with happiness and adoration.

When she takes the first bite, she probably sighs a little too dramatic that have Hope’s brows raised in question. “I have never seen a person eats salad like that.”

A pause.

“It’s almost like you’re savouring it.”

“What? It just tastes _so_ good.” She mumbles incoherently, a mouthful of salad makes it harder to speak. “Have you ever tried this?”

Hope’s neck tints red, but she quickly regains composure; Josie isn’t really sure, why would she be embarrassed?

“Nope.” The other girl grins from ear to ear, flexing her well-defined, muscular biceps that makes her jaw drop. Josie thinks she even drools a little. “Gotta keep these guns loaded.” 

She must have levelled Hope with a crazy look because she cackles with delightful laughter, a hand falls from her shoulder to hug her belly. “I’m kidding, of course I tried it already. It’s your favourite.” 

The air around them thickens with so much pressure that it begins to prickle her skin and she gnaws at her bottom lips in contemplation. Sure, she had her doubts when Hope brought her breakfast, she just doesn’t want to face the truth. Not right now.

“Don’t you need to get to class?” She clears her throat, fingers gripping the fork tightly as she picks apart at the salad on her plate. It serves as a source of distraction, a way of making her less nervous.

“Well, I was planning on staying to keep an eye on you anyway.” Hope’s arms dangle awkwardly by her sides, so she shoves them into her pocket and shrugs nonchalantly. “You know, after yesterday, I’m not sure leaving you alone is such a good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm probably not gonna be consistent with the update because school's coming next week.  
> buttttt i had lots of fun writing this so who know :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the suuuuuper late update.  
> hope you guys enjoy!

Surprisingly, they spend the rest of the day together in harmony. Josie awaits some sort of awkwardness after their earlier conversation, but Hope’s unexcepted humour catches her entirely off guard and before the brunette even could even realise what’s happening, she’s laughing so hard that she struggles to breathe.

“Okay, so you’re saying that,” Her face practically splits in half with how much she’s smiling. “A woman gave birth to her kid, and then what?”

“Yeah, get this,” Hope grins back just as widely, finishing off her joke. “The doctor asked her if she wanted to hear the bad or good news. She said bad and he replied with _he’s deaf and blind, but the good news is he’s dead._ ”

She tries to swallow down the bubbling laughter and can’t. “Oh my god, that’s so bad.”

“But you love it so much.” Hope whines adorably, flipping the pages back and forth. Josie has this ridiculous urge to pull her closer and closer until their lips meet in the middle. “This one is even better. What did the buffalo say to his son as he dropped him off at school? Bison.”

“ _Hope_. Shut up”

Josie shakes her head fondly, blindly reaches for whatever thing that she could throw at Hope’s smug face. She ends up taking the book laying on the drawer out of exasperation and hurls it at her direction, fully aware that the tribrid could catch it with ease. Hope doesn’t bother deflecting; she stands tall as the book hits her and falls at her feet with a _thud_.

“Ouch, Jo. That’s hurt.” A teasing smirk flits across her mouth as she winks playfully at Josie and okay, she really does want to wipe it off Hope’s face. “But what can I say? I only have my _shelf_ to blame.”

“ _Please stop_.”

* * *

Somewhere between Josie trying to finish her breakfast and laughing her ass off at Hope’s dorkiness, the older girl leaves her position next to Josie and proceeds to grab something out of her drawer. “Here,” She comes back a moment later, handing her matching blue hoodies with loose, comfortable-looking joggers. “You must be dying to change out of those. Use my bathroom.”

Josie bites the inside of her cheek; the numbness does little to nothing from keeping in her slip of tongue. “You’re so perfect. I’d be love to be your wife.”

The effect is instantaneous; silence falls over them pregnant and stifling. Josie lets out a small whimper, clasping a hand over her mouth in embarrassment and averting her eyes elsewhere.

“Yeah?” Hope says softly, eyes never leaving her. “I’d marry you, too.”

Josie blushes at the blatant flirt, crossing and uncrossing her arms before setting them down and playing with the frayed seams of her shirt. Blood rushes in her ears, her head feels lighter with each passing second that she digs her nails into her palm in a futile attempt to stop the desperate need to yank off the thin fabric and throw herself at Hope—

“Um, anyhow, you should change.” Hope says, her voice sounds a little tight, but she’s the one to look away first, flicking the nonexistent dust off her pants. “Do you want to do it here? I can go to the bathroom if you’d like?”

“Yeah, here’s fine.” She is breathless by the time the streak of auburn disappears behind the bathroom’s door.

* * *

“Hope?”

It’s already passed evening when there’s a knock coming from outside of her room, Josie is dressed snugly in Hope’s clothes and sitting on her bed. She quickly looks at the source of the sound and turns back to find the older girl pauses whatever joke she’s about to say, holding up a finger to gesture that she’ll get the door.

Josie’s astonished to see Alaric behind it, stepping inside and pacing around anxiously. “Have you seen Josie? Lizzie said she hadn’t seen her around all day.”

“I can’t find her anywhere. I just thought you’d know since you saw her yesterday.” He doesn’t seem to notice her on the bed, keeps on muttering to himself and walking in circles whilst Hope watches in boredom as if she’s seen him like this more than she could count. Josie shoots her a questioning look and waits for her father to stop overreacting. “You know, you never told me where she was. You just barged in my office and demanded for her to take a day off—"

“Dad.” She clears her throat, feeling guilty and responsible for dragging Hope into this mess. “I’m here. I’m okay. You can stop interrogating her.”

Alaric looks alarming when he snaps his head to the direction of her voice, but his eyes soften when he takes her in. He walks a few steps to the bed and gives her a firm hug. “Josie, I was so worried. It was like you disappeared.”

He mumbles wearily in her hair, and Josie hugs him a little tighter so that he knows she’s listening. His embrace feels warm and comforting, so she lets herself melt into his grip and swallows down whatever she has to say about last night.

The brunette almost forgets that Hope’s still standing next to the door, shoulders tense and strained, probably reminisce about her family at their display of affection. She pushes lightly at his arms to signal him to let go; he seems reluctant for a moment before releasing her and steps back, turning his attention to Hope, authoritative and demanding.

“Hope,” Josie scrunches her nose at the sound. _Why is he like this?_ “Where were you today? Dorian told me that he didn’t see you in any of his class, you can’t just ditch class—”

“ _Dad!”_ She all but groans out, intervenes before he has the chance to say something else. “You shouldn’t blame it all on her. I didn’t want to be alone after last night so I asked her to be here.”

“That’s beside the point.” He looks frustrated, rubbing at his temples tiredly. “She should at least report back to me, I could have—”

“It’s not her fault that you can’t take care of me properly, okay?” Josie shouts in frustration, hating the tears prickling at the back of her eyes as she holds his gaze, hating how he only looks so distraught now and not when he left them by themselves in the middle of nowhere, hating that she still loves him so much even though he completely fucked up their relationship and she knows, knows, _knows_ that nothing she does could fix this. “ _You_ shouldn’t have left us. _You_ shouldn’t have run away. _You_ should have stayed.”

“It was supposed to be a night out.” She repeats the exact words she told Hope when they walked side by side, except all she felt then was calm and warm and cared for. Now everything is cold and dark and it sucks because he doesn’t even give as much of a fuck as someone who she’s only talked to twice, including _yesterday_. “But you ruined it because you were so selfish. Do you have any idea what would happen if Hope didn’t show up? I could’ve been killed.”

“How could you act like you care when you obviously don’t?” Her hands are shaking so violently that she has to slip them under the mattress, angry at herself for giving out any emotion. It’s just that. She’s crumbling. “I can’t fix the problem when it’s you.”

Alaric stays silent as he stares at her, something indecipherable in his eyes that seems a lot like disappointment. _How dare he messed this up and came in here and acted like she’s at fault._

She doesn’t know she’s crying until tears fall hot on her lap, until she struggles to oxygenate evenly again, until he reaches out like he wants to wrap his arms around her and holds her close. It takes a couple seconds for Josie to react, but when it does, she recoils forcefully before he could touch her, watching him drop them limply next to his body. Alaric exhales deeply, he takes several steps back and raises his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Jo.”

Josie wants to yell some more, that he doesn’t have the right to call her so intimately, that saying _sorry_ won’t magically mend their relationship, that he will have to do much more than this to regain her trust. But instead, she just lets him slowly retreat out of the room.

“I do care, Jo.” He sounds sincere enough that she wants to forgive him. Not right now when she’s still riled up, though. But later, maybe. “I do. I always care.”

Hope doesn’t let him finish by closing the door at his face. Josie tries to laugh, it comes out a lot like a choked sob.

“I’m sorry.” She tries to apologise to no avail, it’s like her vocal cord gets ripped off of her. “I didn’t know it’d escalate like that.”

The older girl reluctantly lumbers towards her, as if she’s treading on thin ice, still Josie appreciates that she’s giving her space. Hope only gets closer at her nod in confirmation, sits on the edge of the bed and places her hand on her thigh to comfort her.

“Don’t worry about it.” She grabs the sleeve Josie uses to wipe at her face furiously, replaces with gentle finger stroking the tears away from her reddened cheeks. “Can I help?”

The brunette nods, leaning back until her back meets the headboard and slowly, bonelessly sliding down into a comfortable position. She taps lightly on the pillow. “Lie with me.”

* * *

Josie dreams a nightmare.

She is running with no sense of direction; her lungs are burning, her legs are tired and so ready to give out. The sight in front of her is all too familiar, she knows exactly what’s she trying to escape all of a sudden.

She doesn’t make it this time.

This time, she dies.

She wakes up with cold sweat grazing her spine and head reeling from the eerie sensation. Hope still pressed snug against her back, asleep—so she mustn’t have been breathing as hard as she thought—one arm tucked underneath her and snoring softly in her hair.

It’s annoyingly cute.

Josie breathes in the smell of Hope and tries to go back to sleep after that. It’s deemed as an impossible task with the way she’s breathing down her neck, each puff of air tickles her sensitive skin and Josie desperately wants to poke at her side and wake her up.

She doesn’t though.

Instead, she lies still, sinking further in her arms and listens to the rhythmic beat of her heart. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep eventually, drifting off with Hope still wrapped around her and warmth blooming inside her chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm currently working on a fake dating one shot and have about 5k words in :) just wondering if anyone is interested in that?
> 
> also, come talk to me on twitter [@itsblueetooth](https://mobile.twitter.com/itsblueetooth)


	4. Chapter 4

Hope’s pillow smells like cinnamon when she blinks her eyes open.

The first thing she notices is Josie burrowing into her, hair splayed across her sun-kissed cheeks and snoring softly; not the pale, yellow beam of daylight seeping through her curtains, not the crisp, fresh morning air trickling in the tiny creak of her windows, not the warmth tickling her insides, willing her to go back to sleep.

It’s just Josie, Josie, Josie.

Hope wonders how long has it been since someone’s sole existence could overwhelm her in every sense possible. Being with Josie feels like free-falling with your back turned and you can’t really see, but you know she’s down there somewhere, arms open and ready to catch you even when your weight might knock you both down.

It’s surreal, it’s unfamiliar, it’s trust.

Hope doesn’t linger long, leaving the bed several hours before the younger girl’s fully awake. The clock reads passed six, which is a bit later than how she would usually start her day, but if it means having Josie in her arms then Hope finds herself not minding at all.

It takes some effort—Hope holding her breathe whenever Josie so much as twisting her body into a more comfortable position—that she successfully detaches herself from the warm figure. And like the touchy-feely person she is, Josie protests a little (read: a great deal) when Hope tries to get up from her spot: inching closer and curling contentedly into her front; pressing her ass to fit right into Hope’s thighs and mewling whenever her fingers brush at a particularly sensitive spot.

Overall, it’s driving Hope _nuts_.

Because, fuck, who wouldn’t, right? _Right_? Alright, _maybe_ it has something to do with her being touch-starved and horny; but Josie’s tone is soft and syrupy when she cracks her eyes open, gazing dreamily at Hope like she hung the moon. “Stay. Feel cold without you.”

Hope’s hand carefully skims her exposed waist under the duvet, relishing the way Josie’s skin feels under her. She reaches up to tuck a stray strand behind her ear and Josie nuzzles her palm with her face lazily.

“No, boo. Can’t stay.” Hope chuckles quietly, her heart swells with affection and joy. “I have to go.”

Josie blinks confusedly at her through her thick lashes. “Go? Where?”

A laugh rumbles in her chest, Hope thinks she could live in this moment forever. Josie’s soft, sleepy face; Josie’s pink, parted mouth; Josie’s small, gentle puffs of breath—all of them are calling out to her and Hope has to physically crane her neck, forcing her eyes away, afraid that she won’t be able to refrain from running her tongue across Josie’s lips if she spends one more second staring at her.

“Morning jog.” She coughs out, embarrassed. “Would you like to tag along?”

Hope waits for her answer but nothing comes back, Josie's probably dozed off again.

The endless silence is too deafening for Hope to even hear her own thoughts.

* * *

Lizzie is in two minds.

She’s torn between pancakes or cereals for breakfast. Normally, Josie would help her choose by picking whatever left of her choices and switch with her if she wasn’t satisfied with her first option. But she isn’t here, Lizzie registers bitterly, she’s with Hope. And to make the matter worse, the crowd has thinned down noticeably—corresponding to the diminution in the amount of food (and a hungry stomach) if she can’t make up her mind quickly.

Eventually, Lizzie decides to inspect along the wooden tables, looking for something else that catches her attention. There’s some chopped green salad—Josie’s favourite, to which she finds is an extra piece of information that does nothing but forcing her to come to the realisation that she has some serious co-dependency problems—she just can’t eat that, because for god’s sake, she’s neither her fucking sister nor a fucking rabbit. Even so, the only other option left is the pile of steaks stacked messily on a big plate that has her nose scrunched in distaste.

Ugh, what kind of person could ingest meat in the morning.

(Definitely not Josie, though. On no account could she swallow it any time of the day.)

Speaking of which, the culprit of her irresolution is currently busy devouring and stuffing a chunk of meat entirely too big down her small, pink mouth. Hope doesn’t spot Lizzie making her way towards her until she’s standing in front of her, staring down impassively.

“Oh, hi Lizzie.” The older girl chirps, jaw working furiously to chew down the content inside. After some time, the corners of her mouth curl into a genuine smile that Lizzie never knows she could muster. “How are you? Have you had your breakfast?”

Um, _what_ now?

Lizzie has come here with only one intention: be civil until she worms her way into prying and gathering as much information relating to Josie’s whereabouts from the tribrid, considering she saw her last. Nonetheless, the girl’s unexpected friendliness shakes her to her core and brings up her guard. Hundreds of questions swarm her mind and she tries to _patiently_ list out the reasons for the change in her behaviour, not wanting to scare her off by appearing to have an angle.

Reason #1: Hope misinterprets her intention and thinks they’re friends.

“Good morning, _Hope._ ” Lizzie sibilates, eyeing the piece of food on her plate. Oh god, she could make out the imprint of her teeth along the rim. “Do you, by any chance, think that’s we’re friend?”

“Um, no?”

Right. Lizzie guesses not. 

Reason #2: Hope has ulterior motives.

“Great. Any reason you talked to me then? Any angle? No?”

“Not particularly.” She hums, massaging her chin in contemplation. “I mean, I saw you approaching, just thought I should say hello."

Lizzie’s patience runs thin. Fuck whoever tells her _good things come to those who wait_ , she’ll just jump straight into the root of the problem.

“Alright, enough of this. Why don’t you come clean?”

“What—"

“I’ll go first then, since you’re so keen on playing these games.” She rolls her eyes, ignoring Hope’s perplexed expression. “Would you rather me to start with where you abducted my sister to or stay in the dark until you eventually slip your tongue and admit that you did?”

“Lizzie.” Hope gazes pointedly at her, a wrinkle forming at her forehead like she’s trying to figure her out. She sighs loudly, her shoulders sag in defeat when Lizzie's face remains stoic. “Is that what you wanted to ask?”

“Yes. Where are you keeping her?" 

“This is ridiculous.”

“I know, you took a ridiculous amount of time to answer. Stop. Dodging. The. Question.”

“I didn't kidnap her,” Hope frowns, lips pinched into a displeased line. Her former exuberance swiftly vaporises as she grumbles under her breath, “If you just spends one minute to look into this. One. Minute. You'd know that she isn't here because she doesn't want to.”

Okay wow, so much for being civil.

“You didn’t kidnap her?” Lizzie gasps dramatically, hand shooting up to cover her mouth. “I haven’t seen her in a day and you’re refusing to answer. Oh my god, did you kidnap and _murder_ her?”

She could pinpoint the exact moment her last straw snaps in half, Hope’s jaw hardens to the point it could cut glass and her neck strained from the effort of controlling the inevitable anger. She grits her teeth, eyes sharpen to something dark and dangerous. Her words shove the air out of Lizzie’s lungs, leaving her gulping and panting for more.

“I saw a two-feet monster towering her that night, Lizzie. She was lying motionlessly on the ground without any form of protection.”

An exchange of look. And.

“Where were you at that time?”

Tension grows thick between them, apprehension trickling down her neck that Lizzie shakes her head to get rid of. She swallows the lump lodged in her throat and asks again, fully aware of how it’d go.

“What’s your point?”

Hope levels her with the kind of look that screams _drop this please_ , but she opens her mouth to retort.

“My point is, if I wanted her dead, I would just not show up.” The tribrid attempts at a nonchalant shrug and fails miserably. She clearly cares about Josie. “Save me the trouble.”

Lizzie’s therapist used to tell her that ‘bottled-up’ emotions are like a house of cards, sure, she can stow them into a box, stack them and never acknowledge their existence until one of them falls over and knocks down another and another and she’ll most likely be too overwhelmed by it to notice and stop them from collapsing. Now, admitting Hope’s right feels a lot like adding _repentance_ on top of that already teetering pyramid; she’s screaming in Hope’s face before she even realises she is falling apart.

“Then why hasn’t she come and see me yet? You’re the last person she’s with. None of this—” Lizzie laughs sardonically, gesturing between them. “—makes sense, so don’t blame me for worrying about her.”

“Please, I really don’t want to have this conversation. Your dad came barging—”

“When you were clearing out the crime scene?” Hope should know by now that she doesn’t react well to appeasement. “Did you kill him as well?”

The muffled chatter of students quietens, even breathing sounds too loud to her ears so she holds her breath.

“Your sister,” Hope says curtly, dropping her hands and clenching them to fists next to her sides. Lizzie raises an unimpressed eyebrow, signalling her to continue. “Who you and your dad claim to _love_ and _care_ and _worry_ so much, nearly died playing bait to buy you time last night. I _saved_ her. Can’t you just be grateful?”

Is Hope blaming this on her? Why does everyone think it’s her fault? The thought that Alaric had said the same thing to her the day before flies her into a rage. It was Josie who chose to draw attention to herself. If anything, the blonde distinctively remembers gesturing at her to run, because she knew her dumb sister would strive for something as stupid as _distracting_ _the monster while she escapes._ She knows, okay? She’s spent yesterday beating herself up about it. She doesn’t need another bullshit, especially from Hope. Not being able to see Josie for a whole day is enough torture.

So, Lizzie tries and pushes her button. Because that’s what she does to people when they upset her. “Oh, I’m not too sure about that. What if you are some kind of twisted, obsessive psychopath that likes blood on her hand?” Hope’s back ramrods straight and she crosses her arms in a defensive manner, as if to protect herself when Lizzie leans in to whisper at her ear. “After all, your whole family got slaughtered because of you—”

“DO NOT TALK ABOUT MY FAMILY.” Hope cuts her off, standing up abruptly and slamming her fists down the table’s surface. The pressure is so great that Lizzie hears the vibration of the ground humming against her feet, she fights pass a shudder. “You don’t have any idea.”

For a moment, Hope looks like she wants to flip the table at her, but she shuts her eyes tightly and bites her lips until they draw blood. A small group of spectators forms around them as Lizzie watches the situation escalating out of her control in horror, dreading the slap that never comes until Hope turns on her heel, obviously to leave, that she asks. “Where are you going? We’re not done here.”

“We are. There’s nothing to talk about.” She presses, coming to a hasty stop. Still turning her back at her, Hope grits out. “And your sister will come to you when she’s ready. In the meantime, deal with it.”

The blonde stares at her until she disappears behind the communal dining room’s door, bewildered by her comment. She’s deep in thought when she hears another voice calling her name.

“Lizzie.” MG’s waving enthusiastically at her from the boy’s table, motioning her to come. She manages to smile gratefully by the time she arrives at her seat and he shoves a plateful of pancakes to her direction. “I didn’t see you eat your breakfast. Um, so, here.”

Lizzie gives him a thumbs-up as she tiredly slouches down in a chair, picking up her utensil to prod at the food on her plate. Hope’s never-ending words play inside her head like a broken record, no matter how hard she tries to shove it away, into whichever box at the far back of her mind. It keeps coming back, each time more forceful and vivid than the last and Lizzie’s painfully reminded of the fact that she is a shit person and her sister is actively avoiding her. She sighs when the bell rings, willing herself to stop thinking and focusing on her task—eating. 

Lizzie brings the food to her lips and munches thoughtfully. Hmm, she never knows pancakes could have such a foul taste. She hopes dearly that it doesn’t have anything to do with the guilt boiling inside her belly at Hope’s insinuation.

* * *

Josie spends another day avoiding her sister.

Well, technically, it’s not _avoiding_ because they only share Physics and Chemistry of Magics—in which the first one she worked up the courage to face her but Lizzie didn’t show up and Josie needed to go to the bathroom the whole second session. So like, it’s not intentional or anything, she just wants to make that clear.

And besides, why would she avoid Lizzie? It’s not like Lizzie’s at fault that she nearly got killed—she made big girl decision, she had to deal with the consequences, right?

Right?

Josie is not so sure. Right now she just wants to snuggle under the cover—preferably Hope’s—so she can breathe in as much of her comforting scent as she wants and stops _thinking_. Everything seems so overwhelming and she isn’t ready to face Lizzie’s anger, not when she isn’t in control of her own action, not when she’s sitting on the closed toilet seat with her knees in her chest and her face in her hands, not when—

“Jo? You in? It’s Hope.” There’s a long, extended pause that Josie thinks Hope’s left already and pushes the door open, only to find the older girl standing a few metres away, twisting her hands nervously together and letting out a small whiff of air in surprise. “Hey. You okay? What’s wrong?”

The look of concern on her face makes Josie frown, feeling uneasy that she’s the reason causing her distress. Another wave of dizziness courses through her, Josie squeezes her eyes shut and stumbles behind until her back hits the wall. It takes an eternity before she could open her mouth to response.

“Sorry, I-I’m a mess.” Josie runs her nervous fingers through her hair, looking down at her feet and silently hoping the other girl won’t pick up the way her voice cracks. “I-um-I don’t think, I’m not ready to face Lizzie right now.”

“It’s stupid, really.” Her body is screaming at her to stop blabbering, and Josie tries and tries and tries and ugh, it’s so frustrating that her dumb mouth can’t seem to do anything but talking. “You don’t have to stay. I just need a moment to collect myself, I’ll be fine.”

She won’t.

“Hey, I want to stay.” Hope walks cautiously towards her like she’s a small, injured animal and she doesn’t want to scare her way. “No obligated feelings here, yeah? I stay because I want to.”

She’s reaching for her hand and then she’s linking their fingers together when Josie doesn’t flinch away. Hope’s hand is familiar when she’s pulling Josie in for a hug, too, and strong and reliable that she leans in without noticing. “Don’t have to explain anything if you’re not comfortable. Just need know why your hands are so _cold_.”

“Thank you, um,” Hope looks at her like she’s asking for permission—Josie isn’t sure, but she nods anyway—and Hope brings her hands up to her mouth, starting to blow heat to them. “I didn’t know where to go. I had two classes with Lizzie and the first one she didn’t show up and I was supposed to wait for her, but I—” _I chickened out?_ No. Then Hope would ask why and she wouldn't know how to answer that.

“Lizzie, she—”

Josie huffs in exasperation, words are messing up in her brain and she can’t form a coherent sentence. Hope is watching her expectantly with understanding in her blue eyes, waiting patiently for her to get the words out and fuck—she just can’t. “It’s okay. Told you didn’t have to explain. Just—can we go to my room? I can’t get your hands to warm properly until we get there.”

She’s grateful that Hope changes the topic when she senses Josie’s anxiety, her chest feels less constricted and it’s a bit easier to breathe. “I don’t want to, um,” Josie bites the inside of her cheeks, swallowing down the knot clotting her throat, “I don’t want to intrude my welcome. You probably need time for yourself, too.”

“Jo, you’re not intruding anything. I’m more than happy to let you stay at my room until you sort this out, honest.”” Hope’s fingers are gentle as they curl gingerly around her wrist, tugging her out of the cubicle. Josie moves slowly, not fancy the idea of being seen as desperate for any sort of contact. “And you don’t have to talk about it. Just got myself a new DVD player recently so we can watch a movie or something. Sounds fair?”

“Yeah.” Josie nods along, finally relaxed enough to let her lips pull into a small smile. “Only if it’s Heath Ledger though.”

“Heath Ledger it is.”

Somewhere along her giggling and laughing at Hope’s terrible jokes on their way back, Josie discovers that Hope’s also in love with Heath Ledger and got a few of his movies.

“Really? You’re not kidding?”

“Nope, been in love with him since like, six. Don’t think I’ll ever get over him, though.” She smiles cheekily, eyes so bright to the point they’re twinkling. “You’re gonna have to compete for attention.”

Josie rolls her eyes, continuing her search in Hope’s wooden container where she stacks all her movies together. She reads all the titles, picking up a personal favourite after a while and shows it to the older girl. “10 Things I Hate About you? Good choice.”

As Hope fumbles with the television and waves Josie off when she offers help, the brunette plops down on her bed and strikes a ridiculous pose. The air is light again when she turns back, almost stumbles and trips on her feet.

“Really, Jo?” Hope’s laughs are loud and carefree, head whipped back so fast that Josie thinks she hears a _crack_. “You’re seriously gonna stay that way throughout the movie?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with it?” She bats her eyelashes innocently, pushing her ass a little higher just to hear Hope’s breath hitches. Josie’s propping herself up on one arm, face leaning to her palm while her ass juts out due to the massive pillow tucked under her pelvis. She doesn’t point it out when Hope’s eyes linger a bit too long at her backside, opting to look down and play with her sleeves instead.

“Nothing, just wondering,” It’s Hope who breaks the tension, tilting her head down to so her face is in Josie’s field of vision and quirking an eyebrow at her. “Where am I gonna sit if you’re taking up all the space?”

“You’re being dramatic.” Josie rolls her eyes, patting the space behind her back. “C’mere, there’s plenty of room.”

Hope bends over to laugh, discreetly wipes at her eyes before making her way to the bed. “Are you sure you’re not saying that because you want me to spoon you?”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself, Mikaelson.” Josie scoffs, heart swelling three times of its size because Hope is sliding down into the spot behind her and positioning her front snug against her back.

“Wouldn’t dare even with your permission, ma’am.” It’s intended as a joke—Josie’s fully aware of it—but she can’t help the feeling of hot, white pleasure coiling up the bottom of her stomach as Hope puts one hand on her waist, nudging at the junction between her neck and shoulder with her face and spooning her properly. She sighs in contentment, inhaling a lungful of her shampoo and body wash as she nuzzles Josie’s hair. “Good?”

Josie doesn’t realise how much she’s holding back until she’s snuggling in the warmth of her arms, finally feeling protected and loved and cared for. With every shitty thing that has happened lately, she desperately wants to turn back and press her mouth on Hope’s and just forget. It’d be super easy to—Hope probably won’t stop her considering she’s been so nice about the whole situation, providing her clothes and accommodation and all that—which is exactly why Josie’s scared that she’ll fuck up whatever going on between them just because her cunt is taking over her brain. So, Josie tries her best to tune out the conflict inside her chest and hum in affirmation, eyes flitting back to the screen.

By the time Patrick sings _can’t take my eyes off you_ to Kat in front of the entire school, Josie’s already tearing up because it’s freaking cliché and cheesy but no one has ever done things like that to her before and she knows so well that she’s being irrational, but the thought that she’s not important enough keeps haunting her throughout the scene.

It seems like Hope knows she gets emotional too because she’s leaning in even more, pressing their bodies flush together and running her hand under her shirt soothingly as she whispers in her ear. “You want that? Someone who’s willing to embarrass themselves in front of everyone to give you a good laugh?”

Josie wants to scream _yes, yes, yes_ but she sniffles instead, blinking hard to push back tears. The thought of crying around Hope is absolutely mortifying, especially because she’s pitying herself seeing someone else’s happiness, so she stays silent, pretends like she didn’t catch that, but all it takes for her stupid mouth to open again is Hope’s warm hand distractedly drawing circles on her belly. “I’d love that. Don’t want to make anyone feel like they’re obligated, though.”

“Hmm,” Hope hums affirmatively, rubbing her chin on the top of her head. “Pretty sure no one would feel obligated if it’s you.” She hesitates before adding, “I’ve never felt obligated when I’m with you.”

“Me too.”

Josie does end up crying that night, but it isn’t half bad as she thought it would with her nose pressed in Hope’s hair all she can feel is Hope, Hope, Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm having bio test next week so probably no update after that :(  
> but come make me [here](https://mobile.twitter.com/itsblueetooth)


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